This is a remix/response to Meta’s wonderful heartaching script. This is told from the woman’s pov. I hope you don’t mind Sara, I played around with your story a bit.
Setting: Laura is walking on the streets on a Tuesday. She’s on her way to a café on her lunch break. She sees someone/ something familiar. This is her account of what happened.
I saw an apparition of a heart. It was dressed in a rain-stained trenchcoat & was wearing a fake mustache. I think it was the same heart I had given you last year. Maybe now it has lost a few pounds, and a little bit of color. Nothing a good diet, and a new haircut can’t fix.
I don’t miss this heart much to be honest. Oh my! Is that a terrible thing to say? Let me explain. I think it’s because this is the heart that left the faucet of my own heart permanently dripping with grimy tears.
This is the same heart that never came home to dinner. I’m pretty sure that this is also the same heart that made me donate my treadmill to the Salvation Army. While one hand struggled to find the remote control, the other learned a juggling act with 3 scoops of Ben & Jerry’s; while the cell phone remained suspended in the air, too high for my sparring hand to grasp.
So I don’t miss this heart much. No, that is not entirely true. I’ve just learned to live without. This heart taught me that, too.
I should be recording this with my camera. So you would see for yourself - heart- that you are slowly disappearing, flickering on the screen like Michael J. Fox’s character in Back to the Future. Except, we cannot go back in time where you and I do not exist, that was the good part. & I don’t suppose time machines can transport loads of invisible hearts.
Besides, I wouldn’t risk the chance of my heart falling off a slippery, flying hoverboard. It’s done that too many times now. Another one, and it would not survive the crash.
Look at the time, it’s twelve noon. It was precisely on this day last year that you surprised me with a birthday cake. You whispered in my ear, and said to blow the candles. Now, I’ve never believed in wishes. But now, I would like to recreate this moment.
I’ll count to three. One…two…three… Smile. & let my breaths, swallow the flame.
You are gone.
Created: Feb 02, 2010mushr Document Media